Occasional Rain
by Viola
Summary: Alternate Universe - A road not taken, a turning point at the end of Harry's second year changes the ending of a familiar story and creates the beginning of a new one. An alternate universe romance with a twist.


PROLOGUE - 

OCCASIONAL RAIN

So, it looks like no more author alerts for anyone (unless we pay, of course ^_^;). So, I'll just make my own (free) author alerts instead. Just click [here][1] and sign up. It's a Topica announcement list, not a discussion list. The only email you'll get is an "author alert" whenever I post a new story. Sound good? Come on… It'll be fun! (http://www.geocities.com/metis_dreamwalk/announcementlist.html)

A/N: The very observant among you may have noticed that this _isn't_ Chapter 7 of _Dreamwalk Blue_. ^_^ That's coming soon - it's just shaping up to very bloody long. *faints* In the meantime, here's a twisted, little tale that's been lurking in my head since I started working on DB. **Shippers of all flavors - **please keep an open mind on this one. The pairings _are_ set in stone, but there's more going on here than meets the eye. As might be expected from a non-shipper and professional devil's advocate, this isn't your usual romance fic. ^_- Long story short - disagree with my interpretations please! Just be prepared to back it up with something more than "I can't believe you put Mundungus with Arabella! Make it M/M!" (I didn't, but you get the idea…)

Thanks to nosilla, Shay, GeminiC and Noranell for beta reading.

This fic can also be read/reviewed [here][2]. Check it out.

****

  
Prologue: Alternate Universe - A road not taken, a turning point at the end of Harry's second year changes the ending of a familiar story and creates the beginning of a new one. An alternate universe romance with a twist.

Disclaimer: All the standard legal stuff applies - no infringement, no money, just a bit of fun. If any lawyers show up to crash the party, grab the pony keg and run like heck. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

OCCASIONAL RAIN 

"But, why… why did you die?"

"Because _here_ there is a God!"

- Lain Iwakura and Chisa Yomoda, _Serial Experiments Lain_

PROLOGUE – CLOSE THE WORLD

you're such an inspiration for ways 

that i will never ever choose to be 

oh so many ways for me to show you 

how your savior has abandoned you 

he did this 

took all you had 

and left you this way 

still you pray 

never stray 

never taste 

of the fruit never thought to question why 

(from _judith_ a perfect circle, _mer de noms_)

June, 1993

There was something waiting there, just beyond the darkness. She could feel it in the way the world seemed to be holding its breath.

She was alone here, and yet not alone. A heartbeat, low and steady, seemed to surround her, its rhythm growing ever slower – reminding her pleasantly of going to sleep.

Pages burned, flames turning words to blackened ash, setting glowing embers afloat in the red-purple half-light. Ginny reached out and caught one in the palm of her hand. It burned a little but she did not let go.

The something was waiting for her, inside her, she realized… something that was waiting to be born.

Beneath the sound of her own heart, another seemed to beat. It had been weak at first, but was getting stronger and faster as her own seemed to slow and fade.

And then came the light – a red, unclean light, turning the corners and shadows a dirty, pale pink, the color of smashed seashells.

__

What is this place? Ginny curled up, tucking her legs inward and clasping her arms around her knees, each movement taxing her, as though she was dragging an anchor from each limb.

__

How long have I been here? And why is it so hard to remember?

Remember what? another voice asked, soft and sweet in the velvet twilight. 

__

Anything, Ginny replied. _I can't remember anything._

The voice was a familiar one, but the name that went with it escaped her grasp, the thought skittering away from her before she could grasp it.

__

That's all right, it said. _You don't need to. It's almost time, anyway._

Time for what? Ginny began, but then the bottom dropped out of the world and she was drowning.

She gasped for air, but none came. She was drowning in ink – scarlet like the red of her hair, like the blood on her hands. She struggled against it, straining to keep her head up, but the thick liquid pulled at her, dragging her down.

She stretched her arms upward, her hair floating around her face, tendrils tangling with her fingers, which were pale against the so-red ink.

__

Help me! she thought desperately.

The other voice was still there. It laughed, throaty and sweet and full of promises that Ginny was still too young to completely understand.

__

I have helped you, it replied. _Now it's your time to help me. Don't you want to?_

Tom! The thought stayed put this time, the face and voice and name coming together finally in her head.

__

I thought you'd forgotten. Now remember why this must be, and don't fight. The current of ink around her changed direction, swirling around her body – touching ankles, legs, waist, breasts – like an embrace. An unseen hand stroked her hair, and she was left all alone, still falling.

She felt the final tether snap, her last connection to the physical world. She slipped beneath the waves of ink, sucked into heavy depths.

__

Thank you, Ginny, Tom's voice whispered in her head. _I know you're frightened, but what you've done for me… Oh, I owe you so much. I owe you my life, new life._

You've killed me…

I owed it to you – to let you do this. I won't forget…

Strong arms were around her pulling her farther into the ink… down and down, until she thought the pressure would flatten her, break her in two. She stretched a hand upward, reaching uselessly for help that wasn't coming. Then, with a sickening snap, something broke in her chest. She felt the splintering of collapsing bone, and, just before the darkness came, realized she could no longer hear the beating of her heart.

***

Harry was dying.

He lay huddled against the wall, bleeding poison onto the slimy stones. Each breath he attempted burned with unholy fire. Harry felt a warm, soft, feathered head press against his arm. He fumbled stupidly, thanking the phoenix, trying to pet its head with his good hand.

Riddle was standing over them then. When he spoke, his voice was even and emotionless. "You're dead, Harry Potter. Dead."

__

Yes, Harry thought. _I am._

And Ginny was dying.

Turning away from Harry, Riddle walked over to where she lay, and swept her up into his long arms. He sat at Slytherin's stone feet, balancing her limp form between his legs, cradling her head absently against one knee. He stroked a hand over her hair, and bent down to whisper something against her ear. Riddle still had Harry's wand held carelessly between his long fingers.

Harry lay back, ready to give in to the numbness that was replacing the pain in his chest. His vision seemed to clear a bit, and he realized what Riddle must be doing. He was freeing himself completely from the diary – using Ginny to free himself from the diary – and all Harry could do was watch.

With a gasping breath, he struggled to his feet. As he did so, he realized that the pain was nearly gone. Looking up at him, Fawkes blinked tears from beady eyes – _phoenix tears_. The significance hit him, and nearly sent him back to his knees.

Beneath the statue, Riddle stood, his form no longer fuzzy or indistinct, but solid and real. He looked up at Harry.

"Not dead yet, Harry Potter? Ah, I see…" Riddle took a step toward Fawkes and leveled his wand at the bird. Fawkes took flight, narrowly avoiding the spell Riddle cast at him.

"Rather clever, I'll admit," the older boy smiled coldly. "Did you think of that all by yourself, Harry? Clever, but a bit useless." Riddle hefted his stolen wand looked toward Harry. "Shall I kill you, then?"

Harry took an involuntary step backward and Riddle laughed. Harry looked wildly around the room, for something, anything, that could help him. He spotted the diary where it lay open, its spine bent and broken under the weight of Riddle's hands… or had they been Ginny's hands? Ginny's hands, spreading those pages open, smoothing the crisp paper, the scritch-scratch of a quill's nib against the blank page… The image came to Harry so vividly that he staggered under its force. He could see Ginny lying across her bed, quill gripped in careful fingers, biting her lip, twisting a lock of red hair around a small, pale hand. A long-fingered hand descended on her head and she leaned into its touch, taking comfort from the owner's presence… Harry shook the image away, and dove for the book.

"You think that will hurt me?" Riddle asked, his voice soft and mocking. "Come here, Harry Potter. Touch me… 'handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones...'" He laughed again at Harry's blank expression. "I'm real – as real as you are. You cannot hurt me with that book. And now you must die. Make your peace, Harry Potter…" Riddle started for Harry, but stumbled, clutching his chest, the color suddenly gone from his face. He tried to move forward, but tottered like an infant taking its first steps.

He looked up and favored Harry with a smile like death. "Come on then, Harry Potter. Use your pretty sword and run me through. I'm weak right now. Helpless. You can kill me," Riddle laughed. "But you won't, will you?"

Harry stared down at the sword he still clutched in white-knuckled hands.

"No. It's not like killing the snake. Is it, Harry?" Riddle leaned heavily against the stone wall. "This kind of killing takes practice – and you're still a child. You haven't learned yet, but you will."

"I- I will kill you!" Harry burst out suddenly, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. "For everything you've done, you don't deserve to live." Harry lunged at the older boy, bringing the sword up for a heavy blow… and stopped.

Riddle, still weak and pale, laughed. Up close, Harry could see that Riddle was trembling, that it was taking his every effort to remain standing. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and fever burned in his eyes. All it would take was one easy movement, one flick of this sword and Riddle would be forever stopped. Harry wouldn't even have to kill Riddle, really, just knock him to the floor and make sure he never got up.

But Harry didn't move.

"Still think you can do it?" Riddle whispered, reaching a hand out to touch Harry's hair almost fondly, his thumb straying down to briefly slide over Harry's lightning bolt scar. "I know you can't. And I know why. Because I've been you, I've stood where you are and thought the thoughts you're thinking. I _understand_. I know you inside and out because you're like me, and I'm like you. Never forget that, Harry."

And with a whisper of movement and a taste of magic on the air, Riddle was gone. The sword slipped from Harry's hand and clattered to the floor. He stared at it for a moment in wonder, then his eyes fell on Ginny. She still lay huddled at the feet of statue, her hair spread out beneath her head like a pool of blood.

Recovering his wits, Harry flung himself to floor beside her and began to shake her.

"Ginny! Wake up! Ginny!"

Her head lolled backward as Harry yanked on her shoulders, still pleading with her to hear him. Desperate, he leaned his head against her chest listening for a heartbeat. There wasn't one. She wasn't breathing and already her lips were starting to blue.

He had to help her. Harry looked around the chamber, catching Fawkes' eye. The bird glided over.

"Can you help her? Can you, Fawkes?"

The bird looked at him a bit forlornly, blinked twice and took flight again, setting off in the direction of the chamber entrance and the cave-in beyond.

Riddle had disappeared with Harry's wand. And, Harry reflected grimly, even if he _had_ a wand, he didn't know any healing magic.

Without even really thinking about it, he tilted Ginny's head back and put his ear against her mouth, listening for any sign of breath. He wasn't at all sure he remembered how to do this, but one year when Dudley was at swimming lessons, a friendly lifeguard had taken pity on Harry and shown him the basics of CPR. By even trying it, though, he knew, he could hurt Ginny more than help her.

He looked down at her pale, lifeless face – at her blue lips and the tiny criss-crossed veins that stood out nearly black against her eyelids – and realized neither of them had much to lose by trying.

When he pushed on her chest, she moved – or he thought she moved – and Harry felt a surge of hope. 

"1, 2, 3…" Count, breathe, repeat. 

She had to wake up; he wouldn't let her die here. He thought of Ron, and the twins, Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley – Harry wouldn't let this happen. Not because of him. Because it _was_ his fault, he knew with certainty. It was. 

Harry yanked Ginny's robes open, remembering vaguely that it was supposed to help. Her skin beneath the thin material of her blouse was so cold it seemed to burn the flats of his palms, and he jerked away. Looking down at her again, Harry felt the world tilt on its side… and suddenly he was choked with some alien and unnamed panic.

"No, no, no…" he chanted, beating desperately on her chest with his entwined fists. He felt a fragile rib snap under his weight and thought he might be sick. 

Retching, he turned his head aside, and continued trying uselessly to make her heart beat. Harry counted silently, before moving around to breathe into Ginny's mouth.

"Come on, Ginny," he breathed against her cheek. "Come _on_."

And suddenly her body jerked taut. She flung an arm up as though to ward him off, catching him across the face and snapping his glasses at the bridge. The ruined frames cut deep into his skin from the force of her blow. Coughing and retching helplessly, Ginny rolled onto her side, cradling her broken ribs.

Taking off his broken glasses, Harry leaned over her. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as she clutched at him with frigid hands. "Harry?" she managed in a scratchy and abused voice.

Harry felt his limbs go weak with relief. "Are you all right?" he repeated.

She rolled over onto her back and stared at him seemingly without comprehension. "You're bleeding, Harry. Did I do that?"

"It's nothing. It's okay…" he began, but was cut off by an explosion from outside the chamber.

Harry jumped to his feet, wishing he had his wand, but scooping up the sword again instead. He positioned himself between Ginny and the door, hefting the sword in tense hands and wishing he could see better without his glasses.

The doors burst wide and Harry tensed himself for an attack, but through the masonry dust and smoke Fawkes came soaring, followed closely by a grim-faced but determined Ron.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, brandishing his broken wand. His gaze swept around the room, taking in the dead Basilisk, the bloodied sword in Harry's hands and, finally, Ginny lying on the floor by Harry's feet. 

Ron cursed and flung himself over to his sister. "Ginny! Harry, is she okay? What happened? Bloody hell, who cares what happened… we've got to get her out of here."

Ginny reached up and grasped her brother's hand, squeezing slightly, and closing her eyes. Feeling drained, Harry gratefully let Ron take over. Ron gingerly picked Ginny up and prodded Harry toward the door.

"Wait!" Harry ran back and snatched up the diary, which still lay abandoned on the stone floor. 

"Now." He nodded and they began back up the passageway. "How did you get through, anyway?"

Ron nodded at Fawkes, who was flying above them, leading the way back up the passage. "That bird is something else. Remind me to tell you what he did to those stones."

Harry was hardly aware of the trip back up the passage – a trip that had seemed endless and ominous not so very long before. Ron tried to speak to Ginny, who avoided his eyes and clutched at his shirt. Fawkes soared above them, skimming the low-ceilinged tunnel with gold-tipped wings. When they reached the cave-in, their little group picked up Lockhart wordlessly, like ice-skaters playing crack-the-whip. He latched on, tagging bemusedly behind.

As the minutes passed, Harry became aware of Lockhart's child-like prattle breaking the stillness.

"My goodness, young lady," he was saying to Ginny. "Did you know your dress is torn? And the color doesn't suit y-"

"Shut up, you," Ron said, his voice strange and strained. Harry wondered selfishly how much of that strain was concern for Ginny and how much was for him. 

Brushing that thought aside, he said, softly, to Ron, "This whole thing is pretty complicated. Maybe I'd better-"

They stopped abruptly at a junction of copper pipes, decaying in the neglected stone wall. Ron looked sidelong at Harry, still grim, but with a hint of his usual spark in his eyes.

"Any bright ideas?"

As if in answer, Fawkes fluttered around in front of them, hovering next to the large, main pipe.

"You don't think…" Ron began.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose it's worth a try, right? After all, he is an awfully powerful bird." Harry turned toward Fawkes, sliding his bloodstained, silver sword through his belt as he did so. He reached for the phoenix, Riddle's diary still clutched, a bit awkwardly, in his left hand.

"Harry," Ginny said softly. "Here, give me that. I'll hold it." She stretched out a pale hand for Riddle's diary. Harry hesitated, looking from the book to Ginny's heavy-lidded eyes.

"Really… It can't hurt me now, can it?" She gave a weak, wry smile. "It's just a book, after all."

Ron looked from Harry to Ginny, obviously awaiting an answer. But Harry simply placed the black, leather-bound book in her hands, and turned away from them, toward Fawkes. He put a cautious hand on the bird's outstretched tail feather – and abruptly jerked away. The feathers felt like copper electrical wire. He tried again, half-expecting a shock, but none came. Instead his hand burned like molten gold – warm, liquid and slightly unpleasant. The tingle started at his fingertips and shot up through his hair and down into his toes. Trembling slightly, he reached for Ron's hand. Ron gripped Harry's wrist, using his free arm to support Ginny against his chest. As Fawkes began to move upward, Lockhart grabbed hold of the hem of Ron's robes, forcing them to shift positions, causing Ginny to cry out in pain.

"You all right?" Harry heard Ron whisper gruffly.

He couldn't quite make out Ginny's response before the world blurred and they were rushing upward.

They hit the bathroom tile with an audible crack. Harry felt a stabbing pain in his side, and realized he'd landed hard on the broken pieces of his glasses, shoved thoughtlessly into a convenient pocket. He rolled over onto his back, ignoring the damp mildew on the floor, and breathed deeply. He was shaking now, with relief that Ginny was all right, and with reaction. He pressed a hand over his eyes, feeling sticky blood across the bridge of his nose where his glasses had cut him deeply.

After a few more deep breaths, Harry opened his eyes. Ron was leaning over him, an expression of concern on his freckled face. Rather than asking questions, Ron hauled Harry to his feet, before turning to scoop Ginny up again.

"Put me down." Ginny pushed against her brother ineffectively as he tried to juggle her weight to keep from further injuring her broken ribs.

"Like hell…" Ron's face, which had been paler than usual, now flushed pink.

"Put me down, Ron!" Ginny said, with a fire and steel behind her voice Harry wouldn't have expected. 

Giving in, Ron placed her, swaying unsteadily, on the damp tile. She took a few uncertain steps, wincing with pain as she went, till she'd closed the distance between Harry and herself. She stared up at him for a moment, reaching out a trembling hand to wipe the blood from the bridge of his nose.

"Now _I've_ given you a scar," she said, and pitched backward, collapsing on the bathroom floor.

***

*The title "Occasional Rain" comes from a song on the soundtrack to _Serial Experiments Lain_ – an excellent anime series, which I highly recommend even if anime's not your bag. ^_- The song is titled "Cloudy – With Occasional Rain" and can be heard [here][3]. The chapter title "Close the World" also comes from _Lain_ (sensing a theme yet?). The opening with Ginny inside the diary was inspired by a scene from _X: The Movie_, in which Kamui dreams of Kotori trapped inside a womb, surrounded by the pulsing of a heartbeat. The line "_The something was waiting for her, inside her, she realized… something that was waiting to be born,"_ is a paraphrase of Kotori's dialogue in that scene ("Something is growing inside me, Kamui… And soon it will be born!"), and I make no claim on it. _X _belongs, of course, to those kick-ass chicks over at CLAMP. The passage Tom quotes when he invites Harry to touch him is from Luke 24:39 (King James Version). And the dialogue where Riddle says "You're dead, Harry Potter. Dead," appears here exactly as it does in CoS – I didn't write it, nor do I claim to have done so (I think we should make a rule that everyone in the audience has to drink every time a disclaimer is made. ^_- What? It would keep things interesting…). That is, to the best of my knowledge, the only passage I've cited from CoS.

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/metis_dreamwalk/announcementlist.html
   [2]: http://www.thedarkarts.org/authors/viola/OR01.html
   [3]: http://cafe-lain.net/.bootleg/media.html



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